Helen Black - A Place of Safety

Helen Black

A Place of Safety

AVON

A division of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2008

Copyright © Helen Black 2008

Helen Black asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook edition © 2008 ISBN: 9780007328864

Version: 2017-06-26

‘A fantastic first novel.’

Jane Elliott, author of The Little Prisoner and Sadie

‘A dark and gripping read that will have you on the edge of your seat…this terrific debut novel is full of intrigue and a real page-turner.’ Closer

For Mum

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Praise

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Acknowledgments

About the Author

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

There are 9.2 million refugees worldwide.

The UK offers a home to 3%.

Of those seeking a place of safety in the UK, a fifth

are unaccompanied children.

Things, as Luke Walker’s mother is fond of saying, are getting out of hand.

The voices of his friends jar his ears as they stumble through some song by Lily Allen, clapping out of time, urging her on. Tom whoops with glee like a small child at Christmas, saliva dribbling down his chin. Charlie digs Luke in the ribs and shouts something in his ear but the words are lost in a fit of giggles.

The girl is in the middle of their ramshackle circle, her laughter almost hysterical. She says something none of them understand and spins round and round so that her skirt flares up and the boys can see her knickers.

Tom reaches out to touch her. ‘Yeah baby,’ he brays, but the momentum makes him lose his balance and he falls over, bringing Luke down with him.

Tom gropes the ground and swears.

Luke feels sick. He wants to go home. He would go home but he’s boarding tonight, and if the house master catches him in this state he’ll be in detention for a month.

And anyway, the field is spinning and he doesn’t think he can stand.

‘You like?’ the girl asks them.

The other two applaud but Luke can’t even nod his head. He doesn’t like, not at all.

That night had started the same as any other. With prep finished and Mr Philips dealing with one of the homesick new boys, Luke and his friends sneaked out of school to mooch around the village. They pledged how different their lives would be when they could drive.

Charlie’s the eldest and is getting lessons for his seventeenth, but that’s not for over two months.

Luke should be next, but every time he mentions it his mum gives him the look and talks about how many young people die in road accidents.

Tom is the youngest of the group but will probably still be first to pass his test. His dad already lets him drive an old Jeep across their land.

They wandered down to the off-licence. Luke didn’t know why they bothered because Mrs Singh knows they’re all from the boarding school and under age. Tom called her a ‘fucking Paki’ and knocked over a rack of crisps. Luke hates it when Tom does stuff like that.

They finally dragged Tom out with Mrs Singh threatening to call the police, and there was the girl, leaning against the Post Office window opposite. She was one of that lot from the hostel. You could tell by the way she dressed, the way she wore her hair. And she stood like they all do, hunched in on herself, as if trying to disappear.

‘Hey you,’ Tom shouted.

She looked startled at being spoken to and was about to move on when Tom dashed across the street and caught her arm.

‘Do you want to earn some money?’ he asked.

She didn’t answer, her face a blank canvas.

‘Money,’ he repeated, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as if she were deaf or an imbecile. So they paid her five quid to get them some bottles of cider and headed to the park.

It was built for the local kids but they’re all at home on their Nintendos. Only the boarders use it when they manage to slip out of evening prep. It’s cold and deserted, but at least they can get pissed in peace.

Luke doesn’t know why the girl came with them. Maybe she liked the look of Charlie, who’s tall and dark—all the girls fancy him. Or maybe Tom talked her into it. He’s ginger and has a big gap in his front teeth, but he has a way of getting people to do what he wants. ‘Leadership qualities’ his mum calls it.

Either way, she sat on the swings and shared their booze. She barely said a word, except that her name was Anna. Luke thought she was very pretty in a weird sort of way.

When she started dancing you could tell she didn’t really know what she was doing, that she was drunk. He should have told her to sit down. Why hadn’t he told her to sit down?

Now things are going pear-shaped. Tom has managed to pull Anna onto the floor. She’s still laughing but trying to push him away.

‘No no no,’ she says.

Tom mimics her accent. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

She tries to push him away but she’s not very strong, and Tom’s the captain of the rugby first eleven. Luke notices how tiny she is and Tom easily holds the sticks of her arms above her head. Her sweater has ridden up and Luke can see her ribs protruding through her skin.

‘Come on, Tom, leave her alone,’ he says.

Tom’s breath comes in hard pants. ‘Fuck off.’ His forehead is greasy with sweat and the unmistakable bulge of Tom’s cock pushes against his trouser leg.

Luke feels the acid burn of bile in his throat and tries not to retch.

The girl struggles to free herself.

‘Give me a hand, Charlie,’ says Tom.

Charlie seems unsure and hovers above them.

‘Hold her arms,’ Tom grunts.

When Charlie still doesn’t move, Tom snarls at him.

‘Hold her fucking arms, you queer.’

Charlie steals a glance in Luke’s direction. He’s terrified of what’s about to happen, but more terrified of defying Tom. Luke wills him to walk away, to make a joke out of the whole thing. He doesn’t. He kneels above Anna’s head and presses firmly on her wrists.